I remember when all my friends that had gone to college in Utah started getting married. I would occasionally call one of my married friends on my walk back home from the library and listen to her as she complained about only going on library dates with her husband. Marrying young while either one, or sometimes both, of the spouses were still in college seemed so foreign to me. At the time, I couldn’t imagine being anything besides a college student, let alone a wife.
As I began my senior year of college, still no Prince Charming in sight, I felt a little sad that I would never get to go on these library dates. I felt like I was missing out on a fundamental Mormon experience. Sitting in the library, always wishing that I’d brought an extra sweater, I thought about what it would be like to have a husband who would bring me a Tupperware full of warm rice or some hot chocolate from Starbucks. At the time, that seemed like the most romantic thing someone could do for me.
A couple of weeks ago, I went on my first library date with my husband. I was so proud of how neatly his books were stacked inside his backpack. I tried reading the book that I’d brought with me, but I kept getting distracted by the other students in the library. I thought of the universe that each person around me was carrying within them. Maybe they were wishing for spouses who would bring them warm rice. It’s my job as a library date to make sure that my husband is never one of them. Don’t worry, I’m great at packing snacks.